March 8, 1006

I am happy to share a photo this week of the Mohon family. They were a large family in the area and have been here since around the time of the Civil War.

I am honored, as Ida Mae (Mohon) Kirby has graciously allowed me to share this photo of her ancestors.

Standing in the photo, left to right is: William Ryan Mohon born October 16, 1896; Dallas Clark Mohon born August 19, 1884; Samuel Houston Mohon born October 25, 1882; Jesse Calvin Mohon born September 5, 1878; Lewis Anderson Mohon born February 11, 1869. Seated left to right: Edward Riley Mohon born November 13, 1876; Lillie Pearl Mohon born December 19, 1880; James Thomas Mohon born September 5, 1867.

Members of the family not shown in the photo are Nancy, Marietta and John Mohon.

I have memories of most of these family members from my lifetime. As I mentioned last week, these local people have all be just like kin folks, as well as all of the families in the area during this period.

An interesting thing about family trees, is that we don’t go back far enough to link all of our common ancestors. If we traced our ancestors way back the interesting results would indicate that many of us are 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th cousins.

My Indian grandmother, Grandma Blackeye, was born February 3, 1826. She married James William Harmon and they had eleven children. Their last child was born in Tennessee in 1871; however, that family had immigrated to Texas several times before the last one was born. Grandma Blackeye was a full Cherokee Indian.

Grandma Blackeye had a daughter named Harriet Emily Ann Harmon who was born in Rogers, Arkansas in 1860. Harriet married Micajah McNatt who was born in Arkansas in 1860. The McNatt union brought them to Onega.

Grandma Blackeye’s daughter Betty also had a large family who lived in the Onega area, resulting in many of Cherokee descendants in the Onega area.

Several large families including the Mohons, Coffeys, Loopers, Harmons, Daniels, Rogers, Byroms, Lantrips and many others have contributed to the large Cherokee population in the newly named town of Aubrey.

The families since the 1960's with Cherokee heritage have called themselves Black Dutch, to disguise their Indian heritage. As Ida Mae and I were talking about our families’ past, she looked up at me and grinned, saying, "you know, if we don’t quit talking, we are going to find that we are kinfolks too."

For those of you who are apprehensive about admitting to being a half-breed or Cherokee, let me remind you that the Texas Cherokee Nation accepts all individuals with any amount of Cherokee heritage as Cherokees.

Ida Mae also shared with me an old photo of the J.T. Mohon Blacksmith shop. She carefully pointed out and identified all of the people that are gathered in the blacksmith shop. The blacksmith shop was a regular gathering place for learning the town news.

The following recollection is from my cousin Billie McCauley. It is a story about our Grandma Goin.

Mama Goin could always tell by the tilt of Mrs. Sweet Tulip’s elbows as she crossed the red sand road of 1939 Aubrey to our kitchen door just what style of gossip brought her away from her garden.

"Oh, dear God, what a big and little G," Mama would mutter, "She’s going to do her Christian duty."

Sure enough, soon as the amenities were over, Mrs. Sweet Tulip would drop her voice and piously begin, "I wouldn’t bring this up, but I really feel it is my Christian duty to tell you..."

Suddenly Dad Goin would discover a pressing need to check the condition of the chickens, or prune the orchard, any errand out of earshot of the kitchen.

Soon as her black coffee was saucered and blowed, Mrs. Sweet Tulip would be into the latest depredations of Lucius Cunningham. Mrs. Sweet Tulip moved into the house across the road as a widow and I don’t believe anyone ever bothered to set her straight on the relationships in our little town.

We thoroughly enjoyed her gossipy horror at tidbits of news that we knew were just the tip of the iceberg.

Even better, Lucius Cunningham was Mama’s cousin. The family clan may gossip among themselves, but do not appreciate criticism from non-relatives. This is as true today as it was in 1839 and 1939.

Mama Goin was a wonderful people watcher who taught us grandchildren to read folk’s style of walking in order to figure out what they were up to. It is a skill that still holds true.

Sit in the mall and watch the casual shoppers stroll, then the self righteous stride – there are always those anxious to tell you a Terrible Thing Someone Else Has Done.

And you don’t care.

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